We both know how it will end
by omalleys
Summary: Willow has been missing for nine years, and Logan has lost all hope of ever seeing his former childhood friend again. But when they're given a second chance, will he let her slip through his fingers again?
1. Steady walking, but bound to trip

"**You mean that much to me**

**And it's hard to show**

**Gets hectic inside of me**

**When you go."**

A bird cried out as the sound of a twig snapping echoed and bounced off the trees. Two more birds joined, giving high-pitched alert calls as the flock flew into the sky, squawking and screeching as their tiny wings carried them away.

"Logan!" a small girl hissed, turning around sharply to face her friend, a scowl souring her pointed feature.

"Sorry." Logan whispered his foot still on the twig he'd caused to snap, he glanced up, watching the last bird fly away, mesmerized. He had always liked birds, always admired their ability to fly. In fact, last year his vast imagination had led him to believe that he could fly as well and had made some sort of flying contraption that resulted in two fractured bones.

The girl slowly sank down so she was lying on her stomach, crawling army style across the forest floor. Her tights were ripping and her dress was getting dirty in the process, but she didn't seem to care. Logan sighed, following her lead and doing the same.

"Willow?" He stage-whispered, watching some of her unruly curls bob up and down as she crawled. Instead of replying, she paused for merely a nano-second, tilting her head to glance at him, indicating she'd heard him. "Willow, why did we come to the woods?" Logan loved adventures, and he loved that his new friend Willow was always up for one, but recently their little adventures had gone from fun to just plain creepy. It wasn't that he cared his jeans were getting muddy, but his mother had warned him not to go into the woods due to the ticks that usually resided there. Besides, it was starting to get dark.

"_Because,_" she started, moving to avoid a fallen log, sarcasm dripping like acid from her voice. She opened mouth to continue speaking, and then clamped it shut suddenly. After a hesitation, she whispered in a hurried voice: "Shh. It's a secret!" Willow let out a small giggle, and Logan frowned. It seemed that with Willow, everything was a secret. The two continued along the forest floor, birds chirping as they passed under the trees. The sun was quickly sinking and with each dimming second Logan could practically sense his mother's worry, could imagine her pacing the front room, looking out the window – waiting for him.

"Will, I gotta go." Logan said, standing up suddenly brushing the dirt off him. Willow's head snapped up at his nickname for her - no one had ever called her Will before he came along. Her mother sometimes would have affectionately called her Wille, but never Will.

Secretly, she liked the nickname.

"Wha-? No! You can't!" She stood up as well, her features sagging and Logan's heart sank. She had a sad puppy face that could put a real puppy to shame.

"Okay, okay, but just a few more minutes." He said, giving in, and a bright grin spread across her lips. Willow's tiny hand reached out for his, clasping it tightly as she started to run, pushing prickers and grasses out of their way. Logan felt the dirt beneath his sneakers grow softer and finally Willow skidded to a halt, Logan bumping into her back.

They stood in front of a small, fast moving creek that went through the middle of the woods. Frogs and dragonflies buzzed about, and Logan couldn't help but be mesmerized by it. It was a whole new section of the woods he didn't know existed, didn't think it was possible for a little haven to exist smack dab in the middle of what seemed an endless sea of prickers and trees.

"Wow." He said, watching as a toad jumped into the murky water, making a small splash. Willow smiled, dropping his hand and searching until she found a lily, ripping it's petals off one by one and letting them fall into the water, the steady current taking them away quickly. "What are you doing?" He asked cautiously, no one ever knew what sort of answer they would receive when it came to Willow.

"Spreadin' ashes for my mama. Except I don't have her ashes, so I gotta use these petals. My Mama always liked these flowers." She nodded, letting the last pink petal fall. Logan cringed, Willow had moved here just two months ago from Georgia, and her family was the town outcasts. Instead of living in a two-story house in a close-knit neighborhood like Logan and the other children in their class, she lived in a shabby one-story house with a broken porch on the outskirts of town – near the very woods they were in. Her mother had died three weeks ago due to an allergic reaction, and her father was a big man with an even bigger temper. Logan's own mother never let him go over Willows house, and she never wanted to go to his, making them have to play together in places such as this. "Mama was the one to show me this place." She continued, speaking louder now. He frowned in respond, squinting in a scrutinizing manner at her. Ever since her mother had died, Willow never talked about her or anything that could relate to her home life. Neither did anyone else around her, to be honest. Yet here she was, talking about it as if were the most normal thing in the world. "If my Mama had ashes, she would want them here." Willow said, giving another nod for affirmation, but a sudden yell from the distance made her jump, cowering behind Logan.

"Wilooooowww!" the male voice boomed, and Logan instantly matched the voice to a face in his memory: Willow's father, Mr. Patterson. Although he was just calling for his daughter (she was probably late, like he now was) the tone sounded darker, some sort of hidden threat behind it.

"I need to go, and you do too, by the sound of it." Logan said quietly, starting to walk away.

"No! Please!" she begged, reaching out and grabbing his wrist before giving it a sharp tug, pulling him back to her. "Please don't make me go home!"

"Will." Logan sighed her name out, yanking his write free, taking slow steps away from her. Mr. Patterson called for her again, and her eyes widened.

"Please, please I dun wanna go home." She whispered, wiping some dirt of her cheek with the back of her hand. Logan frowned, why was she acting so strange? Willow was always a bit… off – but never like this. The sky was getting darker by the minute, and his own sense of the trouble waiting for him at home pushed his worried for his friend out of his mind, and he turned running back towards his house.

"I'm sorry. We can play tomorrow, all right?" He called, seeing the break in the trees up ahead, but when he looked over his shoulder, he found she was already gone.

That Saturday night was the last time anyone saw Willow Patterson again.

That is… until now.

"**I couldn't spill my heart  
My eyes gleam looking in from the dark  
I walk out in stormy weather  
Hold my words, keep us together  
Steady walking but bound to trip  
Should release but just tighten my grip."**

**Nightime. The xx.**

**Note: both Willow and Logan are nine years old in the prologue, this taking place in the past. Just a bit of background knowledge to be introduced, I hope on getting the next chapter up soon! Please R&R! **

**J.**


	2. Drive on to the end with you

"**Hand in mine, into your icy blues. And then I'd say to you, 'We could take to the highway'. With this trunk of ammunition, too. I'd end my days with you, in a hail of bullets. I'm trying; I'm trying, to let you know just how much you mean to me. And after all the things we put each other through…"**

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**Nine years later.**

_Snow was heavily falling, the sun reflecting off it and nearly blinding anyone who dared to look out their window. It was the first big blizzard of the year, yet everyone was tucked into their houses – too cold to play outside. Everyone that is… except for him. The snow was knee-deep, but he didn't care, just kept trudging on. Something was calling to him, a voice that carried through the sky and to his ears, his heart clenching every time he heard it. _

"_Logan… Help…" it called, but the tone of urgency was missing from the voice. It sounded hard, cold as the snow around him – it was not how he remembered her. His knees were shaking, it was much too cold for anyone to even think of being outside, but the voice kept him going, carried him towards the outskirts of his hometown. A bright blue paper flew up, carried by the wind, and the voice suddenly halted. The paper flowed about until it hit his chest, the wind pressing it to him. With shaking hands, he picked it up, the familiar face staring back at him – wide-eyed. "MISSING. WOULD NOW BE EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD." The title screamed at him, and his stomach clenched in response to seeing her face. Suddenly, the voice screamed out, a high-pitched screech that made him wince and cover his ears, and there she was, the girl that had haunted him since that fateful Saturday evening. She looked exactly as he had last seen her, tall for a nine-year old, with her curly brown hair, sharp eyes and ripped up green dress. "Logan..." she called softly, the screeching stopping, and he found himself giving in, taking another step closer…_

Logan jumped, breathing coming out in short pants, his stomach clenching tightly again. With a groan, he ran out of bed and to the bathroom, getting sick almost instantly. Coughing, he flushed the toilet and slammed the lid shut, still sitting on the bathroom floor as he moved to lean against the wall, one hand clutching his forehead and pushing his hair back.

He tried to convince himself it was just a dream - that he was back in his Palm Wood's apartment in L.A., not in the woods back home. However, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get her face out of his head, couldn't stop hearing her whisper of a voice at his ear. Taking a big breath of air, he slowly stood up, moving to place his hands on the counter and lean on them, glaring at his reflection in the wide mirror.

It had been nine years since he'd seen Willow Patterson – nine years since _anyone _had seen her. In fact, the nightmares were the only thing that kept her sharp in his memory, although he hadn't had once since last night in two months – a new record for him. Sometimes they were mild, like the one he'd just had, but other time there were horrible, gory ones that belonged in a horror movie and not in his mind. Even though he had always wanted to keep a positive image of his friend in his head to remember her by, the nightmares and constant feeling of guilt made it hard for him to remember the good times, made it hard for him to remember ever even liking her. A soft knock on the door made him snap out of his thoughts, and he glanced up at the door.

"Logan?" Carlos asked from the other side and Logan sighed in relief. Since him and Carlos shared a room, he was the only one who had the faintest idea of the turmoil he used to go through every night, and he was used to Logan getting sick from the images he encountered in the morning. "You alright?" He quickly washed his hands, frowning at the dark circles under his eyes in the mirror.

"Fine." He replied shortly, not bothering with drying his hands and just wiping them on his sweatpants, opening the door, and Carlos gave him a 'you're not fooling any of us' look before turning and walking towards the kitchen. Logan sighed, decided he'd tell him about it later, and followed, flinging a cabinet door open once in the kitchen, looking for Excedrin or really anything to stop the splitting headache he could feel coming on. The guys all looked up at him, not used to seeing him showing any sort of anger like he now was. "Where the hell is it..." he grumbled to himself, rummaging through the cluttered medicine shelf before he finally found it, dry swallowing the pill quickly before coming to sit down at the table with everyone else. Katie walked in then, taking one look at Logan and rolling her eyes as she walked over to the fridge.

"What's wrong with him?" She asked, pushing the milk carton out of the way and pulling out the orange juice.

"Dunno." James replied dully, still half-asleep as he messed with his hair, using the window across from him as a mirror, although he could just barely make out his reflection. Carlos remained quiet, not wanting to share my nightmares with my permission.

"_He,_" Logan began, narrowing his eyes at her slightly as she poured herself a glass. "Just got sick, and is definitely not in the mood for sarcasm." Kendall looked up, raising his eyebrows at Logan. They had recording today, and if he was sick, that meant there was pretty much no point in going.

"You okay?" He asked, really meaning 'You wanna stay home and piss Gustavo off?'. Logan nodded, he'd been forced to sing after a nightmare before, and he could make it through a few hours as long as Gustavo didn't scream _too_ much. They all ate breakfast quietly, as least it was quiet to Logan, who drowned most of the conversation for that morning out, flashes of the nightmare repeating every time he shut his eyes.

Still groggy, the four of them reluctantly went down to the recording studio, where Gustavo went on a five minute rant about how cold his coffee was, all the while the guys rolled their eyes and mumbled quietly among themselves, used to this type of behavior.

"Kelly! Where is she!" Gustavo practically growled out, referring to the fact that Kelly was two minutes late (which seemed like an hour in Gustavo's mind) and she was _never_ late.

"Sorry, sorry!" She called as she ran in, clipboard clutched to her chest like always. Gustavo just snorted and waved his hand at us to let us know it was time to get ready. Logan glanced up, noticing a slender form hesitating in the door way, Gustavo followed his gaze, and raised an eyebrow, clearing his throat and looking at Kelly. "Oh!" she said, flustered, and waved the person in.

Logan's breath caught, making some sort of sound between a gasp and a cough. Kendall gave him a strange look, but he was past caring, just staring at the person that followed Kelly into the room. She was tall, and appeared so skinny that I feared if she even raised an arm she would snap in half – it was not a healthy skinny. Her thick brown curls were held up in a ponytail, a few loose strands framed her face. Her intense blue eyes glanced around, in an almost fearful manner, and her skin was light, a few freckles dotting the top of her cheeks and nose. She had a pointed nose, and sharp features. Her gaze slid across us finally and she winced, looking down quickly, lips pressed together. Logan took a step back, thinking he was back in the nightmare, stomach clenching so tightly he thought he would vomit right then and there.

"This is... our new intern. Willow." Kelly said, nodding at the girl, and Gustavo pursed his lips in thought, drumming his hands on the table in front of him, not really caring. Willow glanced up, offering a small nod, but her form was trembling, and she refused to look at the guys, her breath coming out in shaky little sighs.

"Willow." Logan hadn't realized he'd muttered the name, and her head snapped up, eyes widening fearfully. "Willow… Patterson?" It took every ounce of courage he had in him to say that name out loud, and slowly the other guys remembered the name, and frowns came across their faces – all except Carlos, who looked a bit freaked out.

Everyone else had thought Willow was weird, Logan having been the only one who would dare talk to her, let alone play with her, and despite what had ended up happening, it was obvious at the slight look of disgust that crosses James' face that he still felt the same way. Willow shook her head quickly and defensively added.

"No. You must be thinking of someone else. My last name is Hopkins." She offered a tight smile, although she still looked scared out of her mind. Gustavo just rolled his eyes.

"Alright, alright, can we _get started all ready?_" James nodded, his face growing back into a grin that was directed at Willow. She wasn't the freak from his childhood, so she was fair game to him. Carlos, Kendall and James walked into the recording booth, having to drag Logan with them.

No matter what she said her last name was, it had to be her. No one else could have that look in her eyes, she was much older, but she was still the same nine-year old girl Logan had left behind in the woods. The beat started playing, and they started singing, Logan not putting much effort into it, all the while staring at Willow through the glass, her gaze casting downwards whenever she spotted him.

Gustavo yelled at him repeatedly, all of his ending notes kept going flat, but he was past caring. Finally, they were given a break and Willow jumped up, running out of the room and offering a hurried 'Gotta go to the bathroom' excuse. Logan walked calmly out the door, although his palms were sweaty and his stomach felt like it was beating him up, as soon as he got to the hall however, he bolted down the hall, catching up to her and grabbing her by the elbow, whirling her around to face him.

"Get the hell off of me!" She exclaimed, pushing at him.

"Willow Hopkins?" He asked, raising his eyebrows at her. "C'mon, that's not fooling anybody."

"I really have no idea what you are talking about." She said, voice barely above a whisper – oh god, that _voice_, it was so close to the child-like one that haunted him, and it made him weak in the knees. The poor thing looked close to tears, and the feeling of guilt slammed into Logan's chest so forcefully he jumped back, and she ran out the door.

Numbly, he walked back to the recording room, just overhearing James ask Kelly for the 'hot new interns' number, while Kelly was just rolling her eyes.

"James, just leave that poor girl alone." She retorted, sitting back down beside Gustavo, and that's when Logan noticed it, a bright blue flyer sticking out of the garbage can in the corner of the room. He snatched it up, the picture of Willow as a child staring up at him…

And then he couldn't hold it in much longer, and vomited right then and there.

She was back, the girl he'd let slip through his fingers was back.

And Logan had a feeling it wasn't because her kidnappers had all of a sudden grown a heart.

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"**And I would drive on to the end with you, a liquor store or two keeps the gas tank full. And I feel like there's nothing left to do, but prove myself to you, and we'll keep it running… But this time, I mean it; I'll let you know just how much you mean to me. As snow falls on desert skies, as days fade, and nights grow, and we grow cold…**

**Until the end, until this pool of blood."**

**Demolition lovers. My chemical romance.**

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**Short chapter, might suck, I'm currently sneaking on (grounded from the computer) and I only had a little bit of time to write this up. I've noticed a lot of people have this on their alert, but didn't review; silent readers make the author sad! D: please R&R. xx.**

**J. **


	3. Feel you in my heart

**"I felt you in my legs**  
** Before I even met you**  
** And when I laid beside you**  
** For the first time**  
** I told you**  
** I feel you in my heart,**  
** And I don't even know you**  
** Now we're saying**  
** Bye, bye, bye."**

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The heavy raindrops beat against the window, strong wind making the building creak. Willow woke with a start, scrambling to sit up-right, kicking the covers off, cold sweat gathering at her forehead and the back of her neck. The frail girl jumped when a clash of thunder rumbled, causing the thin white walls to shake. She sighed and looked around, she wasn't used to the room being this empty - wasn't used to the other half of the bed still being partially made when she woke up. She slipped out of bed and stood up, hugging herself from the draft that had chilled the room as she peered around the tiny room that was barely big enough to fit just her bed. Her wide gaze flitted about as if she expected someone to walk right in.

"Stop being so paranoid." She mumbled to herself, but she embarrassingly let out a small yelp when the thunder and lightning clashed again. Shaking her head quickly, she tiptoed to the bathroom - still used to having to be quiet in the mornings - and turned the faucet on, splashing cold water on her face. With a shaky sigh, she finally looked at her reflection.

It was not a healthy nor happy face that stared dully back at her.

She looked like she'd just seen a ghost - a signature look, on her part. Her normally pasty skin had grown two shades paler, and the dark circles under her eyes were more defined in the light. Eyelids still drooping, her bright eyes seemed unnaturally bland to her, the small dent of a scar on her forehead also showing more clearly, since she had no makeup on to cover it up. The little fleck of a burn mark on her left cheek also showed, and Willow visibly winced at such memories that were connected with those marks - memories she would prefer to forget.

Willow's mind was slow-moving, though, and she held onto information like a sponge - the memories trickled in, despite her silent pleas for them to go away.

_"I dunno! I swear! I swear!" A small child's voice screamed out. This wasn't like the interrogations in the cop shows she had used to watch when her parents weren't in the room - this was something much, much worse. The flame was brought closer to her face, the flames taunting her as they heated up her skin, sweat trickling down her cheeks - mixing with her tears. _

_"**What **did he do to **her**?" The male voice asked, as the person holding her wrists together tightened their grip, and she cried out. _

Willow audibly cried out, clutching at the bathroom counter, pushing the memory out of her head. They were gone, they weren't coming back. She was safe - or at least, that was what she was trying to convince herself of.

She ran a hand through her hair, fluffing up some of her frizzy, slept-on curls. _Logan,_ the name like a murmur inside her head. Perhaps thinking of him wasn't all too pleasant for her either, but it was better than the memories, so she let the thoughts in.

Seeing him had... frightened her. No, that was an understatement - it had completely scared her out of her wits, causing her to act in peculiar ways. Logan's face was something she had always connected to that night she had been taken from her home. He had _left_ her there, screaming and pleading that she didn't want to go home. _You guys were nine, cut him some slack._ She thought to herself, but the twisting of her stomach told her what she already knew: Logan was smart, even back then, he should have realized the problem was deeper than just wanting to stay out into the woods.

"Will!" She heard someone yell from outside her apartment door, and for a second she let her head raise, wondering if someone was calling for her - and she quickly stopped herself there. No one had called her 'Will' since Logan, and there was someone across the hall named Will, anyways. She liked her internship - really, she did. Gustavo seemed a bit... over-bearing, but at least Kelly was nice - pleasant, even. Willow could have honestly seen herself learning the trade of the business, maybe even moving on to receive an actual job, getting herself into a better part of L.A. where drug deals weren't committed every evening right outside her building. The sight of Logan and his Minnesota friends, however, shattered those little fantasies and she knew there was only one thing she could do now: call and cancel her internship, and never, ever return to that building again.

She bit her lower lip in thought, absentmindedly running her fingers through the small knots in her hair and working through them, as the storm outside was slowly starting to die out. Her gaze slid over to her cell phone laying on the counter every few seconds, trying to find it in her heart to end something she had been looking so forward to. Logan's face materialized itself in her mind and she sighed, not being able to help herself as she thought about how much he had changed. Grabbing her elbow like that? That was not the gentle, shy child she had grown to become fond of during her short time in Duluth. Willow thought of his friends, the rest of the band, that had also been there.

Oh, she remembered them, as well. Kendall had always put up with her when she tagged along with Logan, but their differences had kept them from ever getting along, Carlos had liked her – to an extent, but even at such a young age she thought him immature, willing to believe anything. Willow was and still isn't the smartest person around, but she always had passing grades and learned quickly – and she never, ever, put up with stupid people. It was one of her many rules for life. James… how did Willow describe James? He had always been the one she could never stand, mainly because he was the only one of Logan's little group that wasn't afraid to speak his mind against her. They butted heads constantly, and were always seeking out new ways to put each other down. James was a bit of snob, even then, and took the gossip about the Patterson's he heard from his parents to heart.

If Willow was there, James wouldn't want to come, that was all there was to it. Many people thought it was one of those childhood crushes that were only expressed through playful smacks and sarcastic remarks, but it sure as hell wasn't – at least not to Willow, who hated most children in town, particularly the boys. Logan was really the only exception to all those rules and expectations she had set up for herself back then, and he had been her only and best friend.

A door down the hall slammed, the sound echoing throughout the place and a baby starting crying. Willow took a peek at the alarm clock on her bed-side table, the glowing letters announcing it was just barely past two in the morning. Her sleep schedule was extremely messy, especially when a storm was about and disturbing her sleep. She slept mostly throughout the late afternoon, only up for a few hours between six and nine before she would crawl back into bed – only to be awoken by something (whether it be dreams, storms, or her loud neighbors) at around two in the morning. She'd grown accustomed to it, though, and thought it to be normal – at least to her standards.

Finally deciding she wasn't going to be getting anymore sleep for quite some time, she closed the bathroom door and got in the shower, standing under the water for a good twenty minutes – letting the hot water practically scald her. As the temperature started to waver, she shut the water off, pulling the curtain back and getting out, wrapping a green towel around herself and grabbing another one to dry her hair with. Even at two thirty in the morning, her apartment building was still a lively place, and a chorus of laughter floated through the wall from the room next door. To drown it out, she turned the radio on her alarm clock up, one of the top hits stations coming in and playing Lady Antebellum's 'I run to you'. She didn't particularly care for the country sound to it, but kept it on anyways, combing through her hair and laying out some clothes on her bed.

Just then, the chorus of 'I know what I am' by Band of Skulls cut through the song from the bathroom – her ringtone playing obnoxiously loud from her cellphone. She tightened the towel around herself as she shivered before padding over to it, flipping it open and putting it to her ear without thinking of checking the caller I.D. She'd changed her number so many times, it was a wonder _anybody_ had it.

"Hello?" She chirped into it, as chipper as someone could possibly be at this hour, walking over to turn the music down. There was a hesitation on the other end, before it finally crackled to life, and her blood ran cold.

"Yes… is this Willow... Willow _Hopkins_?" The voice asked, chuckling as it said her fake last name.

* * *

Kendall and James had helped Logan back to his room, and he couldn't help but feel a bit of embarrassment. Throwing up in front of everybody had definitely _not_ been his plan. His legs still felt weak, and his head throbbed.

They had left to go back down to the recording booth, and Logan laid in his bed, the lights off and the only sound interrupting his thoughts were the wind from the storm brewing up outside. He tossed and turned, usually being able to fall asleep quickly – especially when he felt this horrible. But Willow's face kept appearing every time he shut his eyes. What was she doing here? The last he'd even heard of her was that the police had tracked her kidnappers down to Ohio, and then nothing ever that. It was like the case had vanished into thin air.. and why had she seemed so scared? The only other time he had seen her act like that was the very last time he had seen her, in the woods.

With a groan, he gave in, grabbing his laptop off the desk and opening up an internet tab, googling 'Willow Patterson kidnapping', scanning through the various articles that popped up. They all said the same thing, that at nine o'clock on a Saturday, two men had broken into the Patterson house, taking the little girl with them, and a week into the case, Mr. Patterson had suspiciously packed up and moved back down south.

His eyelids were drooping, and after about an hour of reading he shut the top of it, setting it to the side and laying back down. He eventually fell asleep, even though it was much lighter than his usually deep sleep, and sometimes later he heard Carlos let himself in, shuffle around a bit and then leave again.

A few hours later, he cracked his eyes open, looking around and stretching out, then blinking when lightning flashed through the window. He got up and closed the curtains, noticing how bad the storm seemed to be getting. _Great, just another thing to make this week worse than it already was._ He thought, rubbing his temple and pushing his hair back. In truth, he felt better, the nauseous feeling completely gone, although his head still ached, leaving just minor symptoms of what could be considered a minor head cold. He pulled a sweatshirt on over his t-shirt and walked out into the main area of the apartment, surprised to find it empty besides Katie and James. Katie was sprawled out on the couch, remote in hand as she boredly flipped through channels, while James sat on a chair, rambling on.

"So, anyway, this chick, is like… eight on the scale, right? That's pretty good, considering it's been dry around here. So, I found out she's buddy buddy with Bitters' niece, and they live in the South Central, which is kinda scary but she was totally _staring_ at me, so it's worth a shot, right?" He babbled, and Katie made a 'uh-huh' noise, too focused on her channel flipping to really listen. Logan's stomach twisted with disgust as he guessed James was talking about Willow. If he really knew who it was, he probably wouldn't think she was so hot. He went over to the kitchen, grabbing a glass out of a cabinet when James' words really sunk in, and he nearly dropped the glass, fumbling with it until he was sure he had a hold on it. _She was friends with Bitters' niece? Bitters had family?_ He wondered, brow furrowed in puzzlement – Bitters didn't seem like the kind of guy that would really give a rat's ass about his family, but it could explain how Willow knew about the internship.

"What about Bitters' niece?" He asked cautiously, filling the glass up with water before taking a slow sip. James looked up, grinning smugly.

"Apparently, Bitters' has a niece named Ari. She lives a bit more south from here, real good friends with that hot new intern Kelly's training." James replied with a nod, then added quickly. "How ya feeling?"

"Fine. Better." Logan replied, finishing up his water before peering out the kitchen window at the storm outside, which was slowly dying out. "So, are you on a mission or something with that Willow girl?" He was curious, although he wasn't quite ready to admit his fears about her being the Willow from Minnesota to anybody yet – he wasn't even a hundred percent sure himself.

"You could call it that." He flashed a grin. "Bitters neice is coming by in two hours, then I turn on the charm and _bam_!" He hit his hand on the arm of the chair for emphasis. "I got her number, and access to the friend." In Logan's opinion, that sounded like a really big douche move – even for James. Using a girl to get to her friend? He shook his head, annoyance bubbling up within himself.

"Well, good luck with that. Hopefully this girl will be smart." He said, heading back to his bedroom. "I'm going back to bed." James just nodded, silently going through his 'plan' in his mind.

Sometimes, Logan had no idea why he hung out with the guys.

Sometimes, he missed how easy it had been to talk to Willow.

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**"I was nineteen**  
** (call me)**  
** Flew home,**  
** Back to where we met**  
** Stayed inside**  
** I was so upset**  
** Cooked up a plan,**  
** So good except**  
** I was all alone**  
** You were all I had**  
** Love you**  
** You were all mine**  
** Love me."**

**- Nineteen / Teagan and Sara.**

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**Gah! I had hoped to get this up sooner, oh well. It was a bit short, I was going to add another characters P.O.V (hinthint: they talk about her in Logan's P.O.V!) but I ran outta time, and I really wanted to get this uploaded over the weekend (I was going to try to find time for it tonight, but I'm going to a hockey game soon and this was the only time I had D:) Anyway, this chapter was a bunch of nonsense, and nothing really important happened. xD**

**I really hope hearing from Willow's point of view added to the whole suspense of this story I have going, though ^-^.**

**Pointing out this story will mainly be told from Logan, with the odd Willow and possibly this mysterious Ari thrown in. **

**Enjoy!**

**J. **


	4. Anything

Willow's breath came out in a short, shaky gasp – her grip on her mobile starting to slack.

"Oh, what's the matter, Willow? Not up for a chat with an old friend?" the male voice taunted, and Willow swallowed fiercely, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing he had scared her. She closed her eyes, took a deep, and with the strongest voice she could muster up at that time replied:

"Callum, I think it would be best if you didn't call again." The sound on the other end indicated this man by the name of Callum was about to laugh again, and she quickly pressed the 'end' button. Sinking onto the blue sheets of her bed.

Only one clear thing came to her mind:

She had to rid of her phone. And fast.

With speed that could put an Olympic runner to shame, she got dressed, and blow drying her hair straight – as her signature curly hair was distinct and far too noticeable.

Finally, she clutched the cheap phone tightly in her hand and walked out of her shabby apartment. A small dogs yaps could be heard from somewhere down the hall and a teenager sat leaning against a wall, talking animatedly into a phone.

Good, no one she recognized was out, now if only –

"Hey, Willow." An onyx-haired girl chirped out as she exited her door, a big duffel bag over her shoulder. Willow stopped in her tracks, let out a silent sigh, then turned towards the girl, painting a bright smile on her features for the act.

"Hi, Ari." She greeted, stuffing her phone into the back pocket of her jeans.

"Whatcha up to?" Ari asked casually, leaning against the wall, her signature lazy grin on her lips. Ari had been Willow's neighbor for a year now, and she would be lying if she said they weren't close. Both girls were accustomed to their loner and slightly anti-social ways, but if they _had_ to tell someone who their best friend was, both girls would pick the other.

Of course, they weren't so close that Willow would tell her the truth about her life. She highly doubted anyone would ever get that close.

"Uhm, nothing." Willow replied hesitantly, guilt clearly written on her face as if someone had written it on her forehead in ink. Ari raised an eyebrow, but didn't press the subject – knowing that when Willow got antsy like this, it was usually better to remain quiet and ask questions later. "What about you?" Willow hastily changed the subject, nodding at the other girl.

"Oh. Visiting my uncle for the weekend." Ari said with a small eye roll, patting the large bag she was carrying. Willow nodded, pursing her lips and trying to think of how she could nonchalantly walk out of this conversation. Usually, she and Ari were chattier than this – but Willow was of from the phone call, and Ari could tell something was wrong.

"Well, uhm, see you later." Willow muttered turning and walking down the hall.

"Yeah, see ya." Ari called after her, biting her lower lip as she took in her friends sagging posture.

Two hours later and her phone was broken and carefully disposed of.

It was almost scary how many times she's had to do this before.

Scared to go back home and be alone, Willow wandered around town for a while, before stepping into a small convenience store. Although her money supply was diminishing, she needed to get her mind off things. In fact, she had just crouched down to reach for something when she heard that familiar voice.

"Oh, no." She hissed to herself, standing up and looking around wildly. Her blue eyes met his deep brown ones, and Willow felt like the fight or flight instinct had just been kicked into hyper-drive, her hands starting to shake as she contemplated this decision.

As much as she so badly wanted to melt right then and there, break down sobbing to her oldest friend – she knew she couldn't. It was much too dangerous to get someone like Logan involved in this mess that had become part of her daily routine. Turning sharply on her heels, she was about to leave, when his voice, soft and gentle, stopped her.

"Willow, please wait."

* * *

Logan was having a terrible week. He was finally feeling better, but just that small sight of Willow had sent the nightmares spiraling out of control, to the point where he would wake with a start, cold sweat gathered around him and a nauseating feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Most of all, he was tired of being cooped up. He felt like he was only ever moping around the apartment or doing vocal exercises over and over again in Gustavo's recording station.

So when Mrs. Knight had announced that Katie had caught whatever virus Logan had had, and that they were out of medicine, he had leaped at the chance to go for a quick run and get some. Some fresh air and new space to stretch his legs was just what he needed (not to mention that he and the rest of the guys had been hanging around each other so much they were starting to finish each others sentences).

It was a beautiful morning in L.A., and he wished he could fully enjoy it like he once could have. Perhaps if he hadn't acted so rashly when he saw Willow, things would have ended differently. He wanted so badly to know what had happened, and to replace that scared 'deer caught in headlights' look of hers back to the loud, overly confident girl he had known back in Minnesota.

As he walked into the store, he caught the profile of a girl; her brow furrowed slightly, straight brown hair falling in front of her gorgeous face, a few freckles dotting her skin. She seemed familiar, but from this angle, he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Willow?" He said, a bit quietly, and her head snapped up, his breath catching in his throat. Was it her? Oh god, oh god…

She stood up, facing him, and for a moment, she raised her foot as if she were going to step closer, but she quickly turned on her heel, walking away.

"Willow, please wait." He called after her, jogging to match her pace. She looked different. Not exactly a 'wow' different, but enough to make him realize what an attractive person she'd grown into. Her hair wasn't a mess of curls like it usually was, but was sleek and straight, just the slightest bit of makeup lining her icy eyes. She wore a white tank top, the fabric clearly showing off what little curves she had – and she still looked skinny, much too frail than could ever possibly be healthy. A baggy, plaid print hoodie was over that, unzipped widely, hiding her skinny arms behind too baggy sleeves. She wore dark shorts, and Logan fond for a split second his eyes wandering up her legs, than quickly shook it off.

_Get a grip, man_. He thought to himself, and then hurriedly said to her. "Look, I'm sorry for what I did the other day – I'm just... it's a shock okay? You disappear for so long then just show up and then just... run away like that!" She finally turned to him, grabbed his wrist in her small hand.

"Shh." She hissed out through clenched teeth, gaze flitting about wildly before tugging him out of the shop behind her. For such a tiny girl, she did have a strong grip – either that, or Logan just really needed to start working out more.

Finally, she let go of him, standing out on the pavement of the sidewalk, and whirled around to face him. With a small, frustrated sigh, she finally let her gaze meet his, her eyes still intense even at her calmest.

"It's... its okay, alright? I get it. It's just… not a good idea if we… if we… talk. Especially right now." Her voice was barely above a whisper, and Logan had to step a bit closer to hear her.  
"Willow..." He breathed out. How could she just act like this after all these years? He at least deserved to know what was going on. And why the hell was his breath always short when he was around her? Anybody paying attention to his breathing pattern right about now would think he had a severe case of asthma. She bit her lip, shaking her head, stopping his train of words.

"I'm sorry, really I am. Just… this isn't a good idea, okay?" Her hands shook, and Logan wanted so badly to hold them between both of hers, take the chill out of them. Stop her shaking, make her feel safe.

"I think I… I _deserve_ to know!" He whisper-shouted, his tone matching hers. Willow's eyes widened, and she looked down, shoulders shuddering as she let out a breath.

"Fine. Ten minutes. No specific questions about what happened. If you think you're going to figure it out, forget it." She snapped, eyes intensifying as she glared at him.

Ten minutes, just ten? Logan supposed he should be grateful that she was even talking to him, especially after grabbing her so roughly the other day.

"Alright." He said, rocking back and forth onto his heels. "Alright." He repeated, and he saw just a ghost of a smile play out on her pale lips. "Okay, first, all you alright? Safe?" Concern made his voice waver, and she looked up, biting her lip and playing with the ends of her hair.

"Yeah, Logan. I'm fine. I'm... I'm as safe as I can be, I suppose." Her voice grew smaller as the sentence carried out, until eventually it cracked and she looked away. Willow had always been a rotten liar.

But his time was running out and he didn't want to call her out on her lie and possibly make her upset again. "Good, good." He said, stammering his words out. He turned around, ripping an ad off the window of the shop and taking out the pen he always carried with him, scribbling his number on the green paper and handing it back to her. "If you ever need help, really _anything_. Just call, okay? Or ask for me at the Palm Woods." He wanted to make sure she knew she had at least one person she could turn to throughout, well, whatever was going on.

Hesitantly, she took the paper, putting it in her jacket pocket. Although she acted like it was no big deal, her eyes shone, and he wondered how much such a simple thing as knowing someone cared could mean to a girl like Willow.

"T-Thanks." She murmured, looking down.

"Anytime." He replied, wishing that sad look on her face would just disappear- at least for a moment.

Logan wasn't how long he stood, there taking in her face, her eyes, her everything. His breath seemed to be knocked out though whenever his eyes met hers. He knew in a different time, a different place (and maybe if he had just a bit more confidence) he would have held her, told her it was alright, try and make her smile. But he just stood there, wishing for things he knew could never happen.

"Times up." She choked out eventually, and with a parting glance, crossed the street and disappeared into the crowd of people.

Willow Patterson was officially the biggest mystery Logan would ever encounter in his life.

After realizing how long he had stayed out, Logan quickly bought some medicine, and rushed back to the Palm Wood's. Walking through the lobby, he glanced over to find James talking to a girl, her dyed black hair long and falling just past her elbows. She leaned against the wall and had a small smirk on his face as she watched James talk.

Was this Bitters' niece that he hadn't shut up about? She raised an arm and Logan's eyebrows shot up as he noticed a tattoo on her arm. It was some saying; although what it was he couldn't tell. She was tall, wearing jeans and a red tank top, much curvier than Willow was, although she knew how to hide it well.

God, James was in way over his head. Even for James, this seemed like a mountain challenge.

Shaking his head, he headed back up to the apartment, and every step he wished his phone would ring and he'd pick up and hear _her_ voice, telling him that _she_ needed him.

If only, if only….

* * *

**So, so, so sorry this took so long to get up! Damn writers block :P**

**I had a sudden small jolt of inspiration during the craziness that is midterms, and wrote part of this at school and type it up today. ^-^ It's a bit short, but enjoy nonetheless!**

**Also, curious to how I imagine Willow & Ari look like?**

**Check my profile out for links to their images! (if you're reading this just as it got published - wait a bit, it always takes forever for stuff to pop up on my profile :) )  
**

**-J  
**


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